


An Everlasting Oath

by JosivChrisma



Category: The Order: 1886
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female Characters, Female Relationships, Femslash, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Lesbian Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosivChrisma/pseuds/JosivChrisma
Summary: Before embarking on a new mission in London; before duty calls - Lady Igraine and Lady Galahad escape reality for a brief moment in time.





	An Everlasting Oath

**Author's Note:**

> An almost forgotten, genderbent, self-indulgent fic I wrote just after playing The Order 1886.  
> Enjoy.

Awaiting further instructions from command, Lady Igraine and Lady Galahad, the only two women ever to be accepted into the ranks of The Order, perch themselves upon one of London's many rooftops, this one, belonging to the Waverton House.

A typical London morning dawns over them, knowing their latest mission would tear them away from reality once again. They stood, overlooking the familiarities of London's hustle and bustle; the spree of concrete mazes below them, surrounded by densely polluted air - all products of the recent industrial revolution.

The lack of clean air isn't enough to null the pleasant floral scent radiating off Isabeau like a bloomed freesia in spring. Greye inhales deeply, and compliments it by sighing.

Isabeau stirs beside her. "Greye, have you ever wondered what life would be like outside The Order?"

"Without a doubt. To be a normal citizen of society - sure." Greye replies, turning to see the playfulness set in her companion's emerald eyes. Noticing how her cheeks grow rosier by the second from the snap of a cool breeze while the muted sunlight fights it's way through the city's smog.

"Just imagine it. You and I, sporting dresses, fanning ourselves while the sun and breeze lash at our cheeks. Reading the daily gazette within the solitudes of a park, trees filled with song birds, serenading us as we bask in each other's undiluted happiness. Yes, me too."

"Wow, Isi, such poetry." The softness on Greye's face replaced by her screwing it up momentarily at the mentions of such garb. "But have you seen the latest fashion trends on London's cobble-laden streets? I would sport no such thing. Yet here we stand, not wearing dresses, thank the heavens. Instead, we spend most our days underground while our cheeks are graced by blood, sweat and tears."

"And the only things that serenade us are the howls of lycans in dank sewers. Must you remind me of our morbid duties while I fantasise, Greye." Isabeau replies, frowning.

Taking in the sight of how dashing her mentor and long-time friend looks in her uniform. The image of the older woman embellished in nothing but high-town attire was something Isabeau couldn't quite imagine. Deciding for herself that Greye's personalised array of light-armor was what appealed to her the most.

Greye sniggers, removing the loose wisps of dark hair from her face with a graceful flick of her head.

The pair had been dancing around their feelings for quite some time, although their sworn oath's prevented a progression beyond that of friendship. It was this type of shared banter that fueled their affections from the very beginning. Nothing much had changed since then, only their ages.

Their tailcoats flutter in the wind, the lace at Isabeau's wrists move coherently, eyes settling on somewhere distant as if reminiscing something her own mind had access to. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

"How could I forget? I knew from the very first time I saw you - you were going to be a handful." Greye admits, earning her a soft punch on her forearm.

"Excuse me? Was it because you were afraid I would unabashedly take your position of being the female exception to the Knight's of the Round Table?" Isabeau replies while a small giggle escapes her lips.

"Hah! The complete opposite, in fact. I knew that you were special, which is why I insisted on becoming your mentor all those years ago."

"Lady Galahad - that almost sounds needy." Earning Greye a gracious fleer. "As much as it weakens me to admit, I am grateful for your insistence."

Greye beams down at Isabeau, who's green eyes speak words that needn't be said out aloud. For all she could see was the truth pouring out of them, a glint of admiration hidden behind thick, upturned lashes.  
  
"Before we head out, I...," Greye discontinued, nerves wracking when she reaches into her coat pocket, fingers brushing over its contents.

"You?" Isabeau questions, patience diminishing at Greye's unexpected onslaught of nervousness. "Oh for heavens sake, tell me."

"I wanted to give you this." Greye, finally giving in with a gentle huff.

Isabeau's eyes widen in surprise, watching as the woman slowly reveals a dainty wooden box with her first name carved into it's surface. "For you, my lady."

"Greye..." Isabeau gasps, clutching at her chest briefly when the woman offers it to her.

Opening the tiny box seemed to take Isabeau forever now that her hands shook in the process. Dawning on her that her elation was out in the open for Greye to see, not caring that her green eyes grew glassy at the sight of a newly forged pair of ruby earrings cushioned neatly against a layer of black velvet. "Their absolutely...beautiful."

"For a more than beautiful woman."

A single tear rolls down the slope of a heavily blushing cheek, resembling the teardrop design of the precious jewels she held in the palm of her hands. Shedding that stray tear was a result of being embarrassed and overwhelmed by Greye's unexpected gift. "Nonsense," Isabeau swipes it away hastily with a gloved hand, " Now look what you've made me do."

"Well, it's not my fault you've constantly expressed your interest every time we pass the jeweler's boutique. I just had to have the satisfaction of besting the next aristocrat vying to purchase them and of course, to see your face play through the emotions."

"I could slap you, if you weren't choosing your words so carefully. All I can say, is...thank you." Isabeau tilts her head gratuitously.

"You're more than welcome. Here, let me help you put them on." Greye insists. Carefully removing them from the cushion of velvet, while she slipped them into Isabeau's earlobes.

"Believe it or not, these are the only pair that exists in the United Kingdom."  
  
Being this close, Isabeau swears the other woman could hear her heartbeat loud and clear. Welcoming the gentle contact while both her ears were being adorned by finery.

"Which is why they suit you so well. You're one of a kind - the only jewel of the country." Greye declares truthfully. Admiring the way both Isabeau and her rubies complimented each other so well.

"Who knew you were such a reclusive romantic, underneath all that knightly uniform." Isabeau responds, brandishing the other woman's gorget with her fingers.

"And who knew, that you would become so susceptible to my relentless charms. Now you can stun the enemy with your beauty without ever having to fire a bullet again."

Isabeau let's herself go and chuckles lightheartedly, the tips of her cheeks peaked in amusement. Humming to herself when the butterflies in her stomach disintegrated, only to be replaced by a sudden tug in her heaving chest. "If only things could be different. If only..."

"At least we have eachother, regardless of the circumstances. Remember that, Isi."

She doesn't see it coming, but welcomes it wholeheartedly, when Greye places a gentle hand against the side of her head, almost sufficing as a pillow, fingers fumbling over the tight braid woven into her hair. 

The gentle contact of soft lips pressed against her forehead is what really catches the younger woman off guard now that she's displaying her own understanding of their unfortunate situation, by placing a firm hand over Greyes'.

If hearts could speak, it would almost be a possibility, as both woman share an intimate moment of brooding silence.If only the kiss could be placed elsewhere, somewhere where it could be received just as equally as it was given.

Isabeau almost cusses when the communicator sounds off on Greye's shoulder, a rude interruption that brings them back to reality in a matter of seconds. The warmth of Greye's hand now replaced by cool air.

'Greye, this is command. You and Igraine will rendezvous with Lafayette at the United India House, and contain the threat.' A familiar voice emits from the device.

"Copy that, Percival. Pray, we meet in due time. Greye, out."

Isabeau's already tucking the trinket box into the pocket of her coat, after admiring it one more time, once obtaining the latest instructions from Percival.

"Well, then. I guess it’s back to business as usual?" Isabeau mutters, straightening the lapel of her coat, looking devastatingly battle-ready, especially with the new pair of dazzling rubies dangling from her ears.

"I’m afraid so, my lady." Greye replies.

A tingle of excitement rises within Isabeau when Greye's fingers brush against hers on purpose, even more so when the woman turns to leap off the rooftop, landing safely on a fire escape fixed against a nearby building.

"Well, are you coming or not, Isi? It's rude to keep a woman waiting." Greye bellows from below. Watching as the young woman follows suit, landing gracefully beside her. 

"Do try and keep up! I was just giving you a head start." Isabeau says, setting off in a moderate jog while Greye matches her speed with ease.

The anticipation of embarking on a new mission with her companion still left Isabeau feeling disappointed; forced to discard the fantasy of living a life outside The Order with the woman by her side. A fantasy that would re-surface time and time again, only to be subdued by their duties as protector's of London's city. 

Although their sworn oath's forbid them from acting on their feelings; the mutuality of sharing an unspoken love is far greater than the woes of having to live a life bordered by restrictions. 

Absorbing the weight of their guns at their backs while the weight of plentiful hearts offer a sense of balance, both will always serve as a constant reminder, that at least they have each other, regardless of the circumstances.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think....


End file.
